


Room With a View

by queenofthelot



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU where Jughead gets taken in by the Coopers (kind of), One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-23 09:33:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12504368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofthelot/pseuds/queenofthelot





	Room With a View

“Come on, Juggie. Stop standing there so awkwardly. I know you like to hide in the shadows but I promise, you’re welcome here.”

“Hiding in shadows? Bets, it’s my job, I can’t help it. I was born to be the brooding and sardonic art kid in the background.”

Betty frowned at him slightly, then a smile spread across her lips.

“Fine. If you really want, you can sleep upside down like the vampire we all know you are,”

Jughead rolled his eyes, “You know, you think you’re funny, but your humor is just… not there.”

“Maybe you can teach me? I mean you’re going to be here for a while.”

“Yeah. The convenience of your mother going on a business trip for two weeks right when you guys found out I don’t have anywhere to live but a greasy paper bag from Pop’s… It’s lost on me, Saint Cooper.”

Now it was Betty’s turn to roll eyes. “I put fresh sheets on the bed and towels in the bathroom. Don’t worry about moving anything around too much. Mom rarely goes into Polly’s room anymore.”

Jughead shoved his hands into his pockets, looking around the room. It was like a museum, a perfectly preserved moment in time. Lipsticks and eyeshadows spread across the vanity table, a stack of CDs in a corner next to a messy pile of teen magazines. A few posters covered the walls, but besides that, it was mostly bare. Jughead hadn’t known Polly personally, but the room was what he would have imagined for her had she been a character in a story he was writing.

Betty picked up a lipstick and stared at it longingly, wondering if she should pocket it and keep it in her room. She decided against it, standing it up on the vanity.

She put a hand softly on the boy’s shoulder, quietly saying “I’ll leave you to it,” before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her. Jughead could hear her footsteps, then the closing of her door in the next room over. He began to walk over to the bed, sitting on it but being careful not to disturb Betty’s bed-making work. Surely Alice Cooper had trained her daughters in the ways of homemaking and femininity, but maybe they had eventually learned there was more to life than that. Jughead stared at his reflection in the vanity, wondering if Polly had thought the same thing looking into the same mirror. He shook his head slowly at the thought and decided to turn his attention elsewhere; elsewhere being the moonlight mixing with street light streaming through the open window.

Jughead got up, wondering if he- and yes, oh yes, he definitely could. Could see right into Archie’s room that is. And like magic, the lights in the room turned on, a perfect picture of the average teenage boy’s room. Posters and clothing were strewn across a dresser top, sports equipment shoved into a corner. A mixture of boyhood and teenagehood, a hurricane and wrecking ball that had come through the room.  
Archie appeared, shrugging off his letterman jacket and dropping his backpack to the ground. The boy ran a hand through his hair, and Jughead watched as the look on his friend’s face turned from one of stress and tension to one of relief and relaxation.  
Jughead felt a voyeuristic sense of curiosity, an observer of such a mundane series of moments. And yet, he couldn’t turn away. Even when Archie began to strip his shirt off and threw it to the floor, likely mingling with the other half of his wardrobe that had turned into the floor of his bedroom.  
Jughead swallowed hard, turning his body slightly more in the direction of the window, getting a better look. The long hours of training and football practice hadn’t gone to waste.

He watched as Archie sat back on his bed, jeans, and sneakers still on, and picked up his guitar. The boy’s long fingers set into a pattern of a chord and the other hand began to strum rhythmically. Jughead knew Archie had become more involved in music and songwriting, but he had never seen his friend actually play. He found himself mesmerized as the fingers moved up and down across metal and wood, playing a tune he would likely never hear.  
Archie suddenly had a look of frustration cross his face, and quickly got up and walked out of view.  
Jughead panicked, wondering if he had somehow been spotted across the way, watching too closely. But Archie returned; pen in one hand and a tattered spiral notebook in the other. Jughead noticed it, even from this far away; a notebook he had gifted Archie many years ago, probably around fourth grade. He couldn’t understand why but seeing Archie still carrying the thing and using it for something so important, made him feel something, something he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before.

Archie began scribbling away furiously, brows furrowed. He was trying to write down lyrics and chords, recording them on paper rather than to memory. Jughead felt a sense of pride in watching his friend; what an honor it was to see such an intimate moment, the writing process of the musician. Archie began testing different chords, holding the pen in his mouth between the different positions and patterns.  
Eventually, he seemed satisfied enough, or so Jughead assumed, as Archie tucked the pen behind his right ear, and looked over to the notebook splayed out next to him on the bed. Archie began to play, actually play the song in full. Jughead could see his lips moving, head bobbing, but couldn’t make out what the words are from so far away.

Suddenly Archie stopped, grabbing his phone and checked for a message. He looked up and waved towards Betty’s window before turning and looking right at Jughead, even in the darkness, and giving him a nod and a small smile.

Jughead hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on, and he hoped that Archie couldn’t see him in the dark of the room or in the light coming from outside.

Archie stood up, closing the curtains, the peep show over.

 

Jughead still sat, stone still, a million thoughts and feelings running through his head, too many to sort through right then. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and quickly pulled it out to see who had texted him. 

**Archie:** It’s going to get better, Jug. You have us here for you. Goodnight.  
  
**Archie:** P.S. For all of us, take a shower and use whatever flowery body wash Mrs. Cooper has in the bathroom. 

Jughead smiled, immediately thinking of a reply.

**Jughead:** As long as you’ll use her flowery laundry detergent. And Febreze. Your room is something terrible. I’m going to have nightmares about the view


End file.
